


Loneliness

by Oyanachi



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Family, Gen, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Quite angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:54:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25462783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oyanachi/pseuds/Oyanachi
Summary: Prussia's a big mouth. No doubt about it. But often, things aren't what they seem and even Prussia has his secrets.
Relationships: Germania & Prussia (Hetalia), Holy Roman Empire & Prussia (Hetalia), Holy Roman Empire/North Italy (Hetalia), North Italy/Prussia (Hetalia)
Kudos: 24





	Loneliness

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Solitude](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/654148) by Oyanachi. 



> Some days ago, I realized I orginally wrote all my Hetalia OS in 2014. When I was a newbie. When Germany's "birth" strip wasn't out yet. When World Stars actually had just been announced.
> 
> So, this OS is part of my 2020 translation project for my Hetalian fanfictions. And it is what it is: translation. No rewriting allowed and I had to accept the fact that my writing, my knowledge of the world and of Hetalia were kinda... simple at some point. Well, let me tell you I cringed a lot translating those OS (and I'm not over yet...).  
> So, be aware this is my past self, my past ideas. I don't say I totally disagree with it but it's not completely me anymore. Why do I post them then? Well, each year I have people asking me to have an English version of my fanfictions (and I know which one you're waiting for, readers, but do you realize the monster it is?? XD I'll be dying!). 
> 
> (fun fact is I also like translating. It's a real hobby and agood way for me to improve my English)
> 
> Big thanks to Wedeck for checking on my English, that was so helpful!

Many nations eventually disappear. They vanish into thin air without leaving any trace. It’s even impossible to tell if they really passed away once and for all or if they’re somewhere else. Those fallen nations are still here and lost forever at the same time. The mystery remains even millennia later. Nobody understands why some are no more while others are, although without real land. Nobody has been able to explain how some succumbed after transformation of their state while others only changed their name so to speak.

And to say the truth, nobody really wonders about it anymore…

As the first centuries go by, nations overcome the anxiety of a sudden disappearance and only accept the present time, letting the humans guide them. Because, after all, there’s nothing they can do. Friends one day, enemies the next one, sometimes they don’t really understand why they have to fight against each other. But pushed by what humans take for instinct, nations are subject to their calling and throw themselves into the fray. Here, the anxiety of vanishing for good abruptly comes back, strangling them and cutting them down. Powerful or not, all nations found the anxiety of their first days, small and fragile nations in peril, of perishing out of the blue.

All through their long existence, nations have lost loved ones, precious ones, the ones they wished to keep by their side forever. But time and history always decide otherwise. Human or not, we all end up succumbing one day.

The pain that nations feel is hardly spared by the months, years and centuries going by. On the contrary. And even more when it’s about a vanished nation. Because what could be more terrible than to have lost someone you don’t know what happened to? How to react? Even a nation doesn’t know if they have to take it for an end and mourn over it or else to keep hope.

To keep hope for eternity… that’s really a weighty task.

To contain this feeling of emptiness each nation had lived at least once in their life, they find refuge in a fake cemetery. There, they erected graves not really sure what they were supposed to represent or even what shape to give them, what to write instead of an epitaph. In the end, they’re more statues looking like the vanished nations, sculpted by prestigious artists as requested by their loved ones. A certain tribute all in all…

Some nations find it completely inappropriate and never set a foot in it, arguing that it was like burying by themselves, vanished nations but with nothing as a clue of a real death. For others, however, the need to commune with themselves, not to forget, to find one last time this dear one, to be able to put an object, something while waiting for a potential come back, this need quickly became primordial.

So, in this cemetery were aligned triumphant statues at the peak of their power, benevolent and happy. Sculpted with diverse materials according to the artist or patron’s inspiration, they were frozen forever into a glory of bygone days, surrounded by wreaths and bunches made of national flowers, by weapons and objects, all real antiquities, symbols of a shared past with the nations still alive.

Prussia put down an arrow, finely crafted according to medieval methods, at the foot of a bronze statue. This statue was imposing more because of its look than because of its stature or position. Just standing up, a hand on the guard of a sword on the side, and the other one grabbing a shield, it was nothing exceptional. But for Prussia, all the charisma and wisdom of the person was in the face. Carefully detailed, the expression was slightly pinched, features slender while the sculptor succeed in filling the look with a supreme majesty. The long blond hair was whipped up by an imaginary wind for eternity and revealed the face with a not so common presence and lightness.

Every beginning of November, Prussia would come and put down an arrow in front of the statue. It was a wise and modest gesture, which didn’t look like him at all but on this special celebration day, he put his own greatness and his overinflated ego aside to focus on this father he had actually known so little in the end.

The statue of Germania he had made to represent someone he had admired and had respected. It reminded Prussia about the simplicity of their relationship and about the most humble memories. That’s why he always put down here an arrow which was nothing else than an exact replica of the first one he was told how to shoot with. The first one his father Germania told him how to shoot with. One of the few things this father figure passed down him. His siblings had nothing to object when he gave the idea of this statue.

Prussia was often alone when he came and visited Germania. It wasn’t really on purpose but he came in the late morning most of the time and nobody among the Germans was here. His younger brother never came along, as he thought this cemetery story was unwholesome. Germany had always been in the future. He had never known Germania. Although he now looked like a man, he really was very young. Especially from Prussia’s point of view. He understood that Germany didn’t want to come here.

For Prussia, however, this visit was essential because he felt he was way more in the past. Sometimes his life seemed even achieved in his eyes. And yet, he was still here. He never disappeared even though his name appeared nowhere else than in history books now. He never understood why by the way. Be that as it may, the only things left to him now were his memories. When he looked forward, he only felt a big emptiness, a deserted stretch, a life he wouldn’t know what to do with. By the way, he was still confused when he learned about the existence of a young nation or a micro nation. The track of time was going on and history was writing without him. His life was part of a past era and he always realized it more when he was in front of this statue. But that also was the reason that, unlike his younger brother, he liked this cemetery full of effigies.

Eventually, Prussia left Germania because he didn’t have only one vanished nation to visit unfortunately. As he was walking, he met Sweden, Norway and Denmark coming the other way. The three of them gave him a little nod. Then, they went back to their discussion with joy. Indeed, for these three, despite of the solemnity of this cemetery, this day had to be joyful. More united than ever, it feels like the three brave Vikings were back, fearless rascals. It appears that was their way to pay tribute to Scandia, the one who raised them long ago.

At a crossroad, Prussia stopped by on a bench. He breathed out and put his hands behind his neck. The sky was clear and the day promised to be warm for November. He slightly loosened his scarf knot. The weather was warm enough for him to wait here. He indeed planned to meet up with Italy in order to go together, as each year, in front of a statue which was especially precious for both of them.

Prussia cherished this moment only shared by the two of them. Italy was someone he had a huge affection for. He genuinely loved him. And he already told him. On his blog, in his personal compositions, during random discussions… He never refrained himself expressing his feelings. He had so much time ahead of him from now on that he took advantage of it. But he knew very well he was never listened to.

Italy never listened to his confessions.

That’s the conclusion Prussia came to, decades running after him later. Maybe he went about it all wrong but he never thought of it this way. He was really convinced that anything he did was amazing and flawless. Yet, he got used to the idea Italy would never return his feelings. For a reason he didn’t contemplate. Or maybe for a reason he didn’t want to contemplate deep down.

Prussia brought a leg over the other and passed a hand on his face to make all those thoughts disappear. He didn’t like to have negative ideas, so he got rid of them before they became too loud. Otherwise, he had nothing else to do but buy a beer pack and drown his thoughts, alone, somewhere he couldn’t come in anybody’s way.

-Ciao!

Italy’s voice brought Prussia out of his inner thoughts, as it didn’t fail to create a bitter-sweet sensation in him as always. Prussia jumped to his feet and regained his self-assured look, a hand in the front pocket of his jeans.

-Hello, Italy!

Italy’s arms were loaded with a gorgeous bunch of flowers made up of blue crocus, of white asters, of gerberas and of some rosemary branches. Like every year, he took care of assembling flowers for this statue. Each time, he enjoyed describing the plants he put in it as well as the reason of their presence. Prussia listened to him with half an ear because he actually didn’t have any interest on the matter at all, but he liked the sound of Italy’s voice and he enjoyed each time he was talking to him personally.

On a general silent agreement, they moved on and walked across the paths lined with countless statues.

\- Sorry, Italy couldn’t help but apologized, I’m a little bit late. I went to see grandpa first.

Every year, Italy went to see Rome first, a huge conquering statue, all in marble and gilding recalling with no shame the greatness and prestige of the ancient empire. And Italy always apologized. Prussia shrugged.

-It’s alright! The awesome guy I am had just sat down anyway.

They walked around some minutes in silence before Prussia spoke. He didn’t like silence.

-How’s your bro doing? Still doesn’t want to turn up?

-Ah ah! I actually think he pretends not to care about grandpa. But even if he doesn’t come here, I think he still spares a thought for him. I bet I’m gonna find an empty bottle of limoncello in the trash can again. But well… I won’t tell him. Otherwise, he’s gonna scream at me again and Romano is so scary when he gets mad, ve…

-Damn, I don’t know how you do it. When West blows a fuse, believe me, it’s not in his interest to put the blame on me. I’m too awesome for him to confront me anyway.

-Can Germany be upset that much? Italy asked incredulously.

Prussia couldn’t help but giggled in front of Italy’s completely ingenuous expression. Yet, it wasn’t like Germany was totally composed in front of the bit clumsy Italian. A clumsiness Prussia found cute. This too, he already told him but Italy only smiled and waited for the discussion to continue.

-Yeah, but I don’t think you have seen him really pissed off…

New moment of silence. Prussia was looking for something to say. Something other than “you have gorgeous eyes” because it was too cheesy for his liking, “wanna drink something with me?” because that was too obvious, “would you marry me?” because maybe that was a little bit too over the top even for someone as awesome as him… Well, anyway, nothing came to mind, especially when their little walk had such a melancholic destination to say the least.

What a relief for Prussia when they eventually arrived in front of the statue. They stopped and looked for a long time at this young severe face sculpted into the grey stone. Prussia and Italy had thought about the material for a long time when they had decided to create a statue for him at last. It wasn’t such a long time ago by the way…

The Austrian-Prussian war had just come to an end and Prussia emerged victorious. His boss wanted to unify the German people under the wing of the great Prussia and this one would gladly take pride in it. Yet, when he received the new nation of North German Confederation in his house, Prussia panicked. This child had strange similarities to his lost brother. So much that Prussia didn’t know anymore if he was this lost one, or if he actually was another person. And never could he have known. In the first times, he always refused to see the young Germany, locking himself in far-off campaigns and in never-ending benders.

Italy who just ended his unification and who fought by Prussia’s side had come to visit him one day. He had found his companion in arms sat down between two crenels on the rampart wall, the gaze lost in the void, looking crazed and completely drunk, alone with good ten or so bottles at his feet. Italy had tried to understand Prussia’s uneasiness and he had been the only one to have known him in tears, wrecked by the recollections of his past, anxious about the future and clinging as a fool to his present greatness. Italy had cried with him, because he too had lost a dear one and what Prussia had mentioned had brought back in him a feeling of pain he had thought he buried deep down. It may have been the trigger revealing to Prussia the importance Italy had for him. His feelings may have been prior, they may have been born during this time, but be that as it may, after spending the entire afternoon cradled in Italy’s arms who reeled off all the consolations even the silliest he could have found, Prussia had arrived at that conclusion: Italy had a special place.

And in order to close this day intensely emotional day, to seal this tacit deal between them on never to talk again about this horribly embarrassing moment for the great and fantastic Prussia, both of them chose to build a statue. A tribute, a reminder, something soothing as well. A repository to be able to release themselves from this affliction that was secretly eating up both.

Prussia and Italy stayed here for a long time in silence in front of this statue. And for once, Prussia could have stayed for hours not saying a word. He was next to Italy, in front of this lost brother and he could almost feel good. He would have liked a move from Italy towards him but he knew perfectly well he wouldn’t. When he glanced at Italy, he saw his look completely absorbed by the statue and its impassive expression. Italy had eyes only for the lost Holy Roman Empire.

Eventually, Italy got out of his daydream, full of childhood memories for sure, and pointed out the bunch of flowers.

-I should put it down.

-Sure!

-This bunch… it represents the depth of our feelings and hope.

-You’re way too cute, Italy.

Italy said nothing and went forward the statue at bottom of which he put the flowers down.

-Do you think he’ll like these flowers?

Every year the same question. Prussia stepped towards Italy while looking at the statue of this teenager now gone.

-I’m sure he will. You are the one who chose them.

Italy gave a shy faint smile.

-I wish he would be back.

Prussia put an arm over Italy’s shoulders, the only moment he wasn’t rejected. Italy even let himself lean against him. Prussia was exhilarated even though he was feeling the same about the lost nation. He couldn’t help but take maximum advantage and to tighten his embrace. Italy didn’t say a word, still lost in his contemplation of the effigy draped in an eternal dignity.

-Maybe he’s asleep in the catacombs of on old Bavarian castle! Ah ah!

Italy giggled and gave a light nudge in Prussia’s ribs, who faked pain and bent double falsely bruised.

And now the touch was broken. Until next year at least. Prussia couldn’t hope for more and he knew it well.

He turned over Holy Rome statue and in his mind he told him everything he was feeling. Both hands in his jacket pockets, he looked like he was silent but was actually unleashing all the most private of his thoughts. What he never did even in his awesome diaries. Because there was no place in them for his fears and doubts. So he confided them to this brother he wished he could have seen grow up.

Twice, he lost dear ones. Twice, he suffered from their loss. Prussia never wanted to live that again. He didn’t know when this dire fate will be waiting for him, nor what would be next, but until then, he would do his utmost for the current people he wanted to protect will ever be as such.

Leaving Holy Rome’s statue had always been an ordeal. For Prussia as for Italy. They never wanted to tell him goodbye. Their hearts were heavy and guilty as soon as they turned away from the statue. And that’s why they do it together, glancing at each other. A little moment of complicity to add that Prussia treasured. They got away at last, trying to put aside for one more year the loss of this young nation.

Prussia breathed out. This moment in front of Holy Rome’s statue had always been intense in emotions.

-Say, Italy, you wanna have a drink with the most awesome guy on Earth?

He said it, at last, this run-of-the-mill proposition.

-Ve… sorry Prussia, but France already invited me over for lunch.

-Don’t worry, I come with you and we’ll eat the three of us.

Italy gave him a candid smile.

-If France agrees, that would be great.

-Of course it will: I’ll be there!

Italy burst into laughter and Prussia looked at him.

He glanced one last time over his back while they were leaving off the cemetery. Germania and Holy Rome weren’t alive anymore, but somewhere deep down, Prussia carried in him a bit of hope. And what was keeping alive this little sprout was Germany and Italy’s existence for sure.


End file.
